


真実

by cuddlecorps (bluedreaming)



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Illusions, M/M, Magic, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/cuddlecorps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The devil is in the details, after all. An image of Yongguk, sitting across from him at the table in the library, flickers through his mind, and Youngjae can't help the way his mouth twists in a rueful smile. <em>Or in my head.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	真実

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awildneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awildneko/gifts).



> To my recipient: I'm so sorry for the wait! You had such great prompts and this started out being more directly inspired by Labrinth & Emeli Sandé's [Beneath Your Beautiful](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqIxCtEveG8), but then the story took off and pulled me in a direction that diverged from that. You mentioned you liked seemingly unrequited love as well as supernatural/fantasy type aus, so I ended up setting this story more or less in Brakebills, (I'm not sure if you've read [The Magicians](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Magicians_\(Grossman_novel\))) but hopefully it will be self-explanatory and I hope this is something you can like!

 

 _Wasn't there a spell for making yourself happy?_  
  
 _Somebody must have invented one._  
  
 _How could he have missed it?_  
  
 _Why didn't they teach it?_  
  
 _Was it in the library,_  
 _a flying book fluttering just out of reach,_  
 _beating its wings against some high window?_  
― Lev Grossman, [The Magicians](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/433498)

 

 

 

 

Youngjae eyes Himchan across the table in the library and frowns, reaching out for the book he's balancing on his hand, but the pages only nip at his fingertips and he pulls his hand back with a yelp.

"Hey!" he says, and he can't help but send a burst of fire at the book, but's only an illusion. Peering out the window to the lawn spread below the cherry trees, he spots Junhong floating what looks like blue flames in his hands, and Youngjae can feel the faintest flickers of heat, even from where he's sitting. _Definitely a physical kid,_ he thinks, and makes a mental note to put a wager on it.

There's a sound, a shuffle of feet and the brush of something that isn't skin across the surface of his thoughts; Youngjae is already biting his lip before he turns back to meet Yongguk's eyes. The student in the psychic discipline is an exception rather than the norm; Youngjae had always thought that Yongguk would be sorted into knowledge along with him, but he'd been wrong on both counts.

"It's polite to shake my hand, not my mind," Youngjae says, and he really wishes he was joking. Yongguk just nods, and―Youngjae doesn't really know how to explain it―takes a mental step back, expression unperturbed. Youngjae just tries to hide a shiver, disguising the motion by sending a trail of sparks from his fingertips, along the surface of the table.

"Hey," a voice comes from behind him, a split second warning before something taps the top of his head, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to startle. "Careful with the books."

Youngjae cranes his neck to see Himchan standing behind them, ball-point pen twirling between his fingers, the shiny metal surface catching the afternoon light streaming through the tall windows.

"It's just an illusion," Youngjae retorts, as the dust motes in the air sparkle, arching out into rainbows that drip down over the surface of the table. Yongguk blinks, and a wind blows through his head as the rainbows flash out of existence.

"Anyway," Himchan says, pulling a chair out to sit at the edge of the table between Yongguk and Youngjae, "any ideas on what our project should be about?"

Youngjae runs his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting salt. Glancing around the room, he can see other students clustered at around library tables, some with their heads together, murmuring as their hands are hidden from view; others are flipping through books or already sketching out spell plans in notebooks.

"I want to do something big," he says, pulling his eyes back from the other students to meet Himchan's gaze, before glancing over at Yongguk. He stops then, unsure of where to go from here, when he has an idea of scope but not of focus.

"Well," Himchan begins, "there are so many things we could do so maybe―

"Hmm," Yongguk interrupts, clearing his voice, the low sound rumbling slightly through the air, and Youngjae is tempted to stretch the sound into peals of thunder but desists, just for today. "Let's invent a spell."

 

 

 

 

"What's up?" Youngjae leans against the rough bark of a tree, watching Jongup coaxing the poppies to bloom out of season. He wonders if it's for his interdisciplinary project, or just because. The green plants stay green, small buds drooping from the stems, and Jongup huffs out a breath as he wipes his hair off of his face. The air is chilly, but he's not wearing a sweater. Youngjae watches the white cloud of frozen water crystals escaping his mouth as he exhales, flicking his fingertips as they swirl into pinwheels, spinning in in the wind.

"Just one sec," Jongup mumbles under his breath, a small smile blooming across his face as he digs his fingertips into the soil, somehow loose despite the frozen ground, lips moving in soundless words as the buds tilt upwards towards his face, tiny dots of red blooming into petals as the poppies burst into flower in vibrant scarlet.

Jongup laughs, and the sound is brilliant. Youngjae tries to image what Yongguk would sound like, when he laughs. If he laughs. He can't quite picture it, and gives his head a quick shake instead, fingernails digging into his palms, cold hands in his pockets. Jongup's skin is chapped with cold, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"What are you doing out here?" Jongup says, straightening as he dusts soil off his fingers, the dark grains staining the pale cotton of his trousers. "Aren't you cold?"

Youngjae nods, but grins anyway. "I wanted to see what you were up to," he says, and flicks his eyes towards the poppies. "Is that for your project?"

Jongup shakes his head. "Just a bit of fun," he says, "Daehyun, Jieun and I haven't decided what our focus will be yet." Youngjae cocks his head to the side, pensive.

"You all focus on real things," he says, and flicks a finger at the bare earth in front of Jongup's feet. A profusion of green ivy bursts out of the ground, and Jongup almost takes a step back, laughing when Youngjae swipes with his other hand and the plant is completely gone, earth undisturbed.

"You're working with Himchan and―?" Jongup prods.

"Yongguk," Youngjae answers the question Jongup didn't exactly ask. Jongup's eyes widen, the gesture almost imperceptible but Youngjae didn't exhibit a strong illusory magic aptitude for no reason. The devil is in the details, after all. An image of Yongguk, sitting across from him at the table in the library, flickers through his mind, and Youngjae can't help the way his mouth twists in a rueful smile.

_Or in my head._

 

 

 

 

It's dark outside, the trees outside the conservatory casting trailing shadows as they block the light of the full moon, and Youngjae yawns.

"Why are we here again?" He's chilled in his pajamas, and really wants to go back to bed, but Himchan is flipping through books with a pensive expression on his face.

There's a loud cracking sound, and Youngjae turns to peer out of the glass, where the wide beam of a flashlight is sweeping across the lawn; it looks like a branch has fallen off a tree in the wind.

"It's going to storm later," Yongguk says, hair wind-tousled as he flicks off his flashlight and pulls the conservatory door shut behind him. His pajamas are striped, his feet bare, and Youngjae finds his thoughts tangled up in Yongguk's toes for longer than he'd care to admit.

"Every spell needs the right circumstances," Himchan says, and Youngjae nods slowly, because it's true. They still haven't decided on the what of their spell yet though, just the fact that they want to create one, and he furrows his brow, listening to the growing storm outside.

"The circumstances help shape the outcome," Yongguk says, lifting a finger to push the bridge of his glasses up his nose. The light of the lamp catches on the glass surface, and Youngjae can see his face reflected for a flash before the glass is transparent again, his eyes meeting Yongguk's probably gaze. Youngjae looks away.

Yongguk doesn't pry, he's not _that_ kind of psychic kid, but sometimes Youngjae can't believe he could possibly be as oblivious as he seems to be.

"Knowledge, psychic and illusion," Himchan says, spreading his hands to both of them, the pages of the book fanning out on the surface of the table in front of him, paper sighing against paper as the sheets slip shut. "We're going to create a spell that makes a lie true."

There's a hush, and then an ear-blasting crack as white lightning streaks across the sky, bathing everything white static for a moment as Youngjae blinks the green spots out of his field of vision.

"Sometimes," he says, wincing through slitted eyes as he meets Himchan's eyes bright in the dimmer lamplight, "you know too much."

"You thought you were going to test out for knowledge too." Yongguk's low voice, unexpected, catches Youngjae off guard, and he retorts without thinking.

"Don't pretend you didn't think the same thing," he says, and catches Himchan's knowing gaze, suddenly infuriated. He's tired, head still ringing from the roaring thunder outside, and the mention of lies and truth hit too close to home.

"Not everything is an illusion," Yonguk says, stepping forward to sink into the wicker chair across the table from Himchan, beside who's seat Youngjae is still standing.

"Yeah, well lies are lies even if you try to convince yourself they aren't," Youngjae snaps back, running his fingers through his hair. His skin feels too thin, too stretched. It's hard to maintain the illusion of calm, the facade that he never leaves the privacy of his room without, and what Himchan is talking about should be impossible.

It should be impossible, but he knows, the thought tingling in the tips of his fingers, that if anyone can do it, it will be them. Three kids who would have all ended up in the knowledge discipline, except one is too wrapped up in the image he portrays to the world, and the other is too focused on the truth that swims beneath the surface.

"I think we need to get something out of the way first," Himchan says calming, his voice breaking into Youngjae's thoughts. He nods, trying to gather himself up behind his mask.

"I'm sorry," he says, biting his tongue as he nods towards Yongguk, not quite daring to meet his eyes while he's still seeping at the seams of his composure.

"Don't be," Yongguk says quietly. "It's my fault as much as yours."

Youngjae can't help it; he snaps his head around to meet Yongguk's gaze and the truth is written clearly on his face.

Maybe Youngjae isn't the only one with a mask.

"Oh," he says, because the lie isn't a lie after all. The lightning cracking through his head this time makes no sound, but the thunder still shakes his bones.

"Yeah," Yongguk says, and the small smile curling the corners of his lips turns into a quiet laugh as Youngjae smiles back.

Jongup's poppies, blooming in the cold, scarlet against the dark earth.

"Excellent," Himchan says, his words breaking into Youngjae's shared epiphany. "I think we have a good base on which to structure the spell now."

He's grinning when Youngjae looks at him, and he can't help but nod his head in thanks, even though he feels like he was just maneuvered into something; the outcome is worth it.

"Good," Yongguk says, and sighs. "We need to talk,"―he nods towards Youngjae―"but I think you're done with us today, Himchan." He stands and turns to leave, but his thoughts reach out to brush a soft goodbye along Youngjae's arm, and the warm lingers beneath his skin even as the conservatory door swings shut, once again muffling the sound of the rain that's now falling.

"Thanks," Youngjae throws over his shoulder in Himchan's direction as he heads for the door himself, "but don't ever do something like that to me again."

Himchan is laughing as the door closes behind him, and Youngjae looks up towards the clouds obscuring the full moon, water streaming over his face.

It smells like something good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to K for helping me with matching the members with difference disciplines, to A for always holding my hand, and to R listening to me panicking last minute and helping me sort out my plot.
> 
> The title is inspired by one of the other prompts: B.A.P's [Kingdom](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-oY0k0y6p8).


End file.
